Loss.

Um, I don't do well with loss. Really, though, who does?

I'm terrified of it. Always have been. When I was younger, I would lay awake at night developing "escape plans" for if our house was ever on fire. I would mourn the loss of beloved items or people that I hadn't even lost. When my childhood dog, Clyde, was in his last few months of life, I would lay in bed and cry over his death that had yet to occur. And when he did pass away, I was a hot mess. I hate that feeling.

But it's life. I've matured a lot since those days, obviously, and I've grown in my faith, so much so, that I view death a little differently. But it's still terrifying in the sense that once someone or something is gone, it's so final.

I'm dealing with that horrible feeling of finality, right now. I lost one of my most favorite people today.

He's a fighter, but the Lord didn't want him to fight any longer. And while I'm down here bawling and carrying on, he's dancing with Jesus. And the cancer's gone and his sick body is healed. And he no longer has to fight because the battle's won.

And I cry for his family and even, myself. He was our biggest fan, our loudest cheerleader. He said we viewed this next part of our lives as "an adventure" and he loved that because he knew that serving the Lord and sharing His Gospel to the ends of the earth, is not something to be afraid of, it's an adventure. He understood. He encouraged us.

He was with us in spirit as we were appointed back in May, as he lay in the hospital bed fighting to recover from post-cancer surgery. Chandler was faithful to visit him almost every week in the hospital, and looked forward to sharing the appointment service video with him.

I stayed in contact via text message with his wife. I would ask how he's doing, ask how she's doing, and apologize for not coming to visit. I don't handle hospitals well. Or seeing the ones I love in such a condition. She understood. I wanted to preserve my memory of him; well, eating lunch with us before his surgery, talking about the future, and encouraging us. I didn't want to see him sick. I didn't want to face the reality that he might not make it.

But I did this morning. The Lord laid on my heart last week that I needed to suck it up and go see him. And I'm glad I did. I was able to go into his room and stand by his bed. I rubbed his arm and told him I love him and gave him a kiss on the forehead. He was comatose, but maybe he could hear me.

Regardless, I know in my heart that I won't regret not ever seeing him in the hospital. I won't regret seeing him that one last time before he passed.

He's in a much better place and he's fully healed, but he will be missed more than anything.

Two of my most favorite people ever, Jane and Larry (Lar).

One of my most favorite memories: Laughing with Lar about cake.
That was a seriously good laugh.